


The Mere Thought

by Lilacs_Roses



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: AU, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance/UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-28
Updated: 2012-06-28
Packaged: 2017-11-08 19:28:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/446679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilacs_Roses/pseuds/Lilacs_Roses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt, “Colby has a terrifying flashback of Afghanistan and Ian's the only one who can talk him down.” </p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mere Thought

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Potty mouth/bad words/language; flashback and cognitively impaired images/memories of war; slash content; author creativity. NOT BETEAD; point and I shall correct.
> 
> Spoilers: Discussion of things in Ultimatum. Allusions to any and all episodes with Ian Edgerton.

Colby became aware of pain, it was distant at first but as awareness seeped in, going from black to gray to white, the pain became annoying and then grueling and then overwhelming.  When he finally opened his eyes, he immediately shut them again.  It was so bright; where were his sunglasses?  And his helmet?

Opening them again, squinting, he tried to take in his surroundings but all he knew was that he felt sticky, hot and thirsty, he ached all over, his head was killing him and something was wrong with his left leg.

He tried moving around to check his situation but pain drove him into unconsciousness once more.

After coming to again, Colby was able to forcefully move his head around this time, even though it felt like a fifty pound ball of iron on his neck, and found himself at the base of a long, sloping canyon cliff.  He’d obviously tumbled down it but as to why or how, Colby didn’t have any clue.

Belatedly he looked around for his rifle but the only weapons he seemed to have on him were a handgun with a couple of extra clips and his knife.  Frowning, he tried to move to see more of the area but ended up stuck with his back leaning against a boulder, panting through pain and realizing that his left leg was actually broken.  He tried his radio but found only static; the fall down must have damaged it.

_Shit._

Raising a hand to his head and, before he could process more than it coming back bloody, he slumped into darkness once more.

It took him awhile to remove his tee-shirt and then tear it into strips to use for bandages after he woke again, fighting to remain conscious as he contemplated his situation.  He was stuck in enemy territory and it looked like he had not only lost his rifle in the fall, but his pack as well.  In this heat, injured as he was, without water, Colby knew he wouldn’t last long.  And if that didn’t kill him, especially if he kept blacking out, the soldiers who found him certainly would.

Colby had no idea where the rest of his unit was but he sincerely hoped that they had been able to find cover and that they’d be able to find him and get him out of the mess he was in.

The wound he assumed was a bullet graze had bled considerably.  It had run down his forehead, detouring around his eyebrow and passed his temple then along his jaw where it had mixed with the sweat on his neck.  As he bandaged it, the clot bled sluggishly but remained intact.

Given his inability to remain conscious, Colby assumed that there had to be another head wound.  Using his fingers to gently feel around, he found only one other which he must have gotten in his fall.  From his exploration, Colby could tell that it needed a lot more treatment than he could provide and would soak through the light material he was using in no time.  However, he did what he could for it, blacking out a couple of times for a few seconds as he secured the remaining material around it.

Fighting to stay conscious, Colby used his knife to he cut away the pants from his broken leg.  With nothing to use for splints he wouldn’t be able to keep it straight, but the sturdy material and his belt would at least provide some cushion and protection for the limb; there just wasn’t anything else he could do.

He must have blacked out again because the next thing he knew, there were two soldiers bending over him and the sound of a helicopter not too far away.  Not recognizing the men, Colby knocked one down and grabbed the other, jerking him down and slamming him into the ground.  The angles all wrong for him to do anything to truly incapacitate the soldier while he was injured, Colby grabbed the first thing that came to hand, a small rock, and hit the soldier in the head.  Seizing the closest enemy’s gun, he targeted the other soldier who was struggling to get back to his feet.

He must have really been out of it to not have awakened as they disarmed and otherwise searched him.  Railing at himself, Colby used his rudimentary Pashto to command the soldier to get back on the ground, stay still and silent or he would kill him.

The man looked over at him with eyes gone wide and swallowed, nodding his head in understanding.

With as hurt as he was, Colby wouldn’t stand a chance of getting away from the reinforcements he was sure would descend upon him at any sound of gunfire; the handgun wasn’t meant for long range targets nor did he have the ammunition to sustain him through a firefight.  By all rights, he should just kill them both right now and be done with it; however, Colby needed information and using one against the other was a good strategy of getting it.

He frowned slightly at the soldier’s behavior and easy acquiescence but didn’t have time to puzzle anything out as he fought to keep himself from passing out again as he checked for the unconscious soldier’s radio.  Finding it, he listened for a moment, hearing all sorts of chatter.  As Colby tried to focus his thoughts on how to get in touch with his unit, or the helicopter he could hear – he was sure it was one of theirs – and letting them know his situation, without alerting the enemy, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

He must have blacked out again for just a few seconds because when he blinked his eyes open, the solider on the ground had sat up, attempting to move towards him and the movement that Colby had noticed a moment prior had actually resolved itself into a group of five other soldiers coming towards him.

Raising the gun, which refused to remain steady, Colby commanded the second solider to back off, his finger putting more pressure on the trigger.  The man moved away slowly and then sat on his heels but went to the ground when Colby threatened him further.

Colby checked the man nearest him and grimaced in pain and confusion.  Hadn’t this been an enemy soldier?  Attempting to clear his head, Colby almost shook himself before stopping abruptly.  He couldn’t afford to black out again.

Taking a closer look….

No, this was Lieutenant Murphy, code named ‘Rainman’.  Thank God his head wound wasn’t bleeding because Colby didn’t have anything else to use for bandages and, while he heard the chopper, Colby didn’t believe it would attempt to get any closer to them with those enemy soldiers right on top of them.  He wondered if the rest of his unit was close, he could really use the backup right now.

Resting one hand on the man’s shoulder, Colby gave him a little shake as he looked at the six enemy soldiers in front of him.  “Come on, Rain, break time’s over.”  He wasn’t expecting a response from the Cincinnati, Ohio, native, but it gave him a measure of comfort to have a friend at his side given the situation.

* * *

Special Agent Ian Edgerton felt himself shaken slightly and strove to make sense of his condition as his body ignored his demand of _open your fucking eyes and find out what the hell is going on!_  The last he recalled was that they had all been on a combined operation via the OCDETF to take down a major drug and gun runner out in the desert, east of LA.

This was definitely not the time to not know what the hell was happening!

There’d been three teams of four, with each of them assigned one sniper.  While the SOG of the US Marshals had provided them with the sharpshooters and tactical backup, Ian himself had actually been in the area and had volunteered to help with the operation.

Things had been going as well as could be expected, given the situation.  DEA and ATF had come at the ‘compound’ in a standard flanking maneuver with Eppes’ team coming in straight on.  Ian and the other snipers had excellent high ground for their work, especially with the back of it having pretty much butted up against two natural obstructions – a tall canyon column and a steep cliff.

Until things heated up and the bad guys started panicking that is.

While there had appeared to be a cool head running the illicit operation with the top levels being composed of mostly mercenaries and former military, the bullets currently being sprayed willy-nilly must have been the product of their downline – a mishmash of petty thugs and muscle, with no real brains – as they tried to cover their own escape.

Ian… something….

_Granger!_

Edgerton’s mind might have slammed into high gear but his body remained almost completely still as he remembered seeing Colby jerk backwards out of the corner of his eye.  He’d thought the formidable blond had been killed and had struggled to keep his emotions in check.  He used his comm to radio the Medivac helicopter they had had on stand-by, his voice rough, hoping someone would be able to check on the downed agent, hoping that someone found him alive.

As soon as things had calmed down enough for Ian to move without getting shot himself, he’d made his way to where he’d last seen the other man, having heard nothing about him and calling for a situation report, his jaw clenched tight, his gut churning and his chest aching.

However, when the sniper reached Colby’s position to find only a couple of other agents, one on the radio with the helicopter, and no sign of Granger, except for the rifle he’d had with him, Ian couldn’t help but hold his breath.  Looking around, he surmised that Colby must have lost his footing, the gravel under his feet rolling, the dirt giving way, which had then sent him over the lip of the wall.

Looking down, Ian’s heart stopped in his chest.  Despite the gradualness of the cliff’s slope, if Colby hadn’t been dead when he went over, there was a really good chance he was now.

Communicating his findings to all concerned, Ian and one of the other agents had then attempted to climb down but ended up radioing that it was too dangerous for anyone to try to descend any further without better equipment.  Scrambling the little way back up, the sniper growling inwardly at the wasted time, they’d split up to go around the scene to get to the base of the canyon, the helicopter remaining on stand-by.

Ian had met up with Malik Hosseini, one of the DEA agents, coming from the other direction and, together they’d found Granger, _alive_.  Ian had struggled to keep his mask in place and focus on staying professional, assessing and relaying Colby’s condition: unconscious, one leg broken and two head wounds, all of which had been field dressed as well as could be.  Colby had obviously been conscious at some point, which was a good thing considering.

Suddenly it all came back and Ian forced himself to keep still this time, focusing on the voices around him, trying to understand why the handsome blond had attacked them.

After listening for a few moments, Ian swallowed, mentally cursing.

Colby was in the midst of a flashback it seemed.

The sniper knew about flashbacks.  He’d suffered through a couple himself over the years and knew of many other soldiers who had had to deal with them as well.  Sometimes people knew what their triggers were and made a concentrated effort to stay away from them but others struck out of the blue.  Given Colby’s condition, it wasn’t any wonder that the former soldier was having one; this was a tailor-made scenario just waiting to happen.

And it was pure luck, good or bad, that the sniper knew exactly what Colby thought was going on and where he thought he was.  After all, Ian had been there too, just not ‘officially.’

* * *

“Ok, Rainman, I really need you to wake up now and help us get outta here.”  Colby’s voice was whisper soft and tense but clearly not expecting _Murphy_ to respond.

Ian forced himself to move slowly, watching as Colby registered him, slight surprise and relief on his face, shoulders losing an infinitesimal amount of tension, but not taking his eyes away from the people in front of him.

“God, Rain, I could really use a hand here, buddy.”

While Ian knew Colby was obviously seeing the soldiers from his flashback, the sniper took in everything at a glance, breathing a little easier finding that Colby hadn’t shot anyone – yet – and that was pretty much all that mattered at the moment.  Malik Hosseini was sitting on the ground uninjured while his coworkers Allen Jeffries and Steve Jones, along with Michael Webber from the ATF and Don and David, were stopped several feet away from them.

Looking back to the formidable blond, Ian knew the next step was getting Colby out of the flashback and to stand down.  They needed to get him to the hospital; one of the head wounds had looked like a fracture to Ian and it needed immediate medical attention, not to mention getting him out of this heat and his leg.

“Quarterhorse.” Ian’s voice was just as whisper soft.

“Rain, it’s good to have you awake, man.”

“Colby.”  The blond briefly glanced at him with a frown, tensing.  Ian continued, hoping that his use of Granger’s first name instead of his handle would help reach the injured agent.  “I know you’re going to find this hard to believe, Colby, but I’m not Lieutenant Murphy; I’m Ian Edgerton and you aren’t in Afghanistan right now.”

He watched the blond try not to react but Ian had spent a lot of time observing the handsome man throughout the years and could almost see Colby’s mind going over what he just said.

“You’re in California right now, Granger.  Afghanistan was about a decade ago and you, and me, are an FBI agent now, not a soldier.”  Ian was keeping his voice quiet, an intimate conversation between the two of them.

The sniper heard the huff of air from the blond, obviously trying not to snort, but he wasn’t tensing up or firing the gun… _yet_.

Ian had raised his voice so the others could hear him now and continued, “Agent Hosseini is with the DEA.  We were on a joint operation to take down a drug and gun runner out here when things got a little hot.”

He swallowed, remembering Colby jerking backwards and fought to keep himself calm and his voice steady.  “We thought you’d been taken down by a bullet when you were changing your position.  It looks like it just grazed you, but you must have fallen down the cliff.”  Edgerton gave a nod to Colby’s head wounds and broken leg.

Ian watched as Colby tried to split his attention between the ‘enemy soldiers’ and his obviously ‘delirious partner’ given the man’s slight change in expression.  He then tilted his head towards the other agents without breaking eye contact with Colby.

“The guy on the far right is your boss and the one close to him is your partner.  The other three are DEA and ATF.”  Ian’s voice had gone quiet again and then made a gesture to Don.

Don didn’t move forward, but he gave the gun he was holding to David and then slowly began to move his right hand towards the back right pocket of his jeans, intending on getting his identification.

“I’m Special Agent Don Eppes.  I’m your boss and team leader for the Violent Crimes Unit of the LA FBI office.  I’m going to get my ID out and toss it to you, ok, Colby?”

* * *

Colby’s head hurt, his leg hurt, hell… everything hurt….  And now, Murphy was claiming to be sniper legend _Ian Edgerton_ and telling him that he wasn’t where he knew… where he thought… he was?

The blond wanted to shake his head with frustration but knew that that would be a world-class bad idea.  Not only did he have to content with his own injuries now, but he had to figure out how to keep Murphy, who was obviously way out there, from doing anything that would get the both of them killed outright.

The guy Murphy said was Colby’s boss, how did the soldier know his name – Murphy hadn’t said it loud enough for the man to hear – started to reach for something inside his uniform and Colby tensed, trying to watch all the soldiers at the same time while using his weaning strength to keep the gun pointed at the other man’s chest.  No matter how hard he tried though, Colby couldn’t keep it from shaking; he was at the end of his endurance and he knew he had to decide what to do before he blacked out again, possibly for the very last time.

* * *

Ian could see Colby trying to think his way through all that was happening, understanding he wasn’t believing what Ian, what _Murphy_ , was telling him, seeing Colby’s finger tighten just a bit on the trigger.

Ian motioned for everyone to hold still and Don froze, his hand almost to his back pocket.

“Colby.”  When Granger kept his eyes and gun focused on the other agents, Ian chanced touching the blonde’s knee to get his attention.

The sniper looked into the blonde’s green eyes, hoping Colby would, could see the truth of what he was saying reflected there.

“Colby, what if I am Ian Edgerton?  What if everything I’m telling you is true?  Are you going to try and kill five or six innocent people, perhaps getting both of us killed too, with the belief that you’re right and I’m lying to you?”

“And if you’re wrong?”  Colby’s voice rang with his own conviction, the determination to do anything he could to keep Murphy and himself alive.

Ian leaned forward a bit, squeezing Colby’s knee slightly, “Have I ever lied to you?”  Colby squinted a little and the sniper continued.

“Colby, they aren’t going to shoot you.  They aren’t going to shoot me.  They aren’t going to capture us or torture us.  All they’re going to do is call in the Medievac helicopter and get you to a hospital.”

He watched as Colby turned back to the group in front of him, silent.

“Just listen to me for just one minute.”  Ian fought to keep himself calm.  He had to get Colby to stand down because if he pulled that trigger, this would be nothing short of a bloodbath.

“Please, Colby, just _listen_.”

Something must have come through because the man looked back to him and Ian seized the chance.

“Could it be you who’s not seeing this situation for what it is; you’ve got a fractured skull, you fell down a cliff… you broke your leg and you were unconscious when we found you.” 

The uncertainty was clear in the former soldier’s eyes.

“Come on, Colby, we need to get you to the hospital.”

He could see Granger’s brain trying to sort things out but they didn’t have time; Colby’s head was still bleeding and he’d been out in this sun for too long without medical attention already.

“Trust me, Colby.  Please.”

Colby swallowed, his breathing having sped up slightly, the gun in his hand shaking even more.

“ _Please_ ,” Ian repeated, his voice almost cracking this time with how tense it was, with the emotions he was struggling to keep in check.

Colby’s gun hand started to lower, but Ian would never know if it was because of his plea or if it was because the formidable blond had finally reached the end of his stamina, because Colby’s eyes rolled up in his head and all at once his body slumped; the sniper barely catching him to prevent his head from hitting the ground.

* * *

At the hospital, once he’d been moved out of ICU and the haze from all the medications had lessened, Colby had struggled to recall what had happened during the raid, having been confronted with the charges against him.

While it was clear no one blamed him for what had happened, Colby had still attacked two federal officers and held others at gunpoint and it had taken the formidable blond hearing the accounts of others who’d been on the scene and putting them together with his own fractured memories, for him to grasp the situation. 

Ian, after getting checked out and given a relatively clean bill of health, had stayed as close to the blond as possible.  When Colby had been released with supervision, he had volunteered for duty, although the irony of someone with his own head injury watching over someone with even worse was not lost on him.  However, with all the visitors dropping by Granger’s apartment throughout the following days of their recovery, it wasn’t a problem.

Despite everything Ian and everyone else did or said though, Colby had slowly sunk into a depression so debilitating that it was actually beginning to affect his convalescence.

And Ian finally decided drastic measures were called for.

* * *

Kidnapping Colby was relatively easy given the man’s state of mind.  Ian took him to a cabin he used for when he felt the need for sanctuary from the demands and consequences of his own life.  The place was somewhat small; it didn’t show up on any maps and was relatively completely self-contained and there were no two-legged neighbors for at least fifty miles in any direction.

Ian believed the blond needed time to grieve and rail against what had happened and he knew Colby would not do that back in Los Angeles, not with friends, co-workers and others constantly dropping by or checking in on him.  This was the perfect place and, Ian also believed, himself the perfect companion, for Colby to just… let go of everything he needed to.

The first couple of days, Ian simply left Colby alone, to stare out one of the few windows in the two divided room structure as the sniper took the time to clean and do maintenance.  He hoped the man would be able to relax enough to get some sleep as the circles under his eyes and his gaunt face attested to the fact he wasn’t getting much.

However, with the dawning of the third day, Ian gently but firmly pulled Colby back to the land of the living, forcing him to eat and bathe.  When those two things were done, he took Colby outside, leaving the blond to wander around the area of the cabin as Ian checked the outside and started chopping wood for the fireplace and stove.

He surreptitiously watched as the former solder, former agent, looked around almost uninterestingly.  Ian and Hosseini had gotten off lucky.  All of them had really; with Colby’s injuries and his flashback, things could have gone so much worse – it _could_ have been a bloodbath.  The sniper also knew that there would be few places that would be willing to employ the man for fear of something akin to the situation happening again.  After all, you don’t give a gun to someone who may end up turning it against you with a knock on the head.  Then again, with Colby’s military training, he wouldn’t even need a gun in most cases.

Like the majority of those with ‘the service gene’, Colby probably wouldn’t feel anything more than worthless if he wasn’t involved in some ‘protective’ career like the military or law enforcement.  Ian had a lot of contacts and he was positive that, when the time came, he could help with getting Colby something that would satisfy him job wise.  Hell, Colby’s personnel file spoke for itself, the man wouldn’t need any assistance.  However, what Colby needed now was lots of rest and to get over the guilt and depression he was currently mired in and that wouldn’t be so easily taken care of.

Ian sighed, shaking his head slightly, continuing to chop wood.

* * *

Colby knew things weren’t as bad as they could have been.  The chance of him being put in the same situation to bring on another flashback of that kind was very low but there were other things he could have flashbacks of and he worried about those.  Granted, he’d been in the military and then that stint as a spy and his years as an FBI agent and had only one flashback, but… now that he’d had one, and such a bad one at that, it left the door open for others.  Was he going to be more prone to having them now?

He understood the reasons for his being terminated as an agent and he was thankful the FBI wasn’t going to formally press criminal charges against him for actions taken during his flashback.  If he’d had the option, he would have chosen a lifetime of desk duty with no chance of getting near a situation that required a weapon ever again but, it wasn’t like no one had ever come in and shot up the office before.

Colby also knew that, with all of his connections, he’d find something that would satisfy him for work in some way.

What was really bothering him was… he had come very, _very_ close to killing… friends and other innocents.  It wasn’t like he hadn’t killed before, but that had been in the line of duty – both as a soldier and as an officer of the law.  This would have been nothing but murder and that was something that just….

But it hadn’t happened.

But it could have.

It might have, if Ian….

And that’s where his mind started stumbling around.

If Ian hadn’t been there… everything bad that kept whirling around in Colby’s head _could_ have happened.

What if, when he’d knocked the man down and hit him with that rock, he had killed Ian Edgerton?

And **_that_** was where his mind not only got stuck but that it actually refused to go beyond the mere suggestion of the thought that _he had killed Ian Edgerton_.

Because that would have meant that Colby had not only murdered the sniper legend, the bastard son of Clint Eastwood and Yoda, but that Colby would have killed the man he’d admired since the moment he’d heard about the legend.  That he’d been in lust with since the first moment he saw him.  That he’d been in love with since shortly after they had started working together in the FBI.

When Ian had taken him hostage inside the prison after the sniper had been arrested for supposedly killing someone, Colby had been caught between a rock and a hard place.  He couldn’t, he didn’t, believe that Ian had finally gone over the edge and actually murdered someone, however, all his training had told him that people could be broken, that they could and did cross lines, all the time.  That ‘good’ men went ‘bad’ and that, after all the sniper had experienced in his life, and having such a high pressured, morally ambiguous job as that of someone who literally holds life and death in their hands… all of that could have pushed Ian too far.

Despite all that, even when he was telling Don to take the shot, to not let Ian get in his head, Colby had reveled, guiltily, oh so very guiltily, in being in Ian’s arms.  Yes, Ian had had a gun to his head, a strong arm like a steel band around his neck and was using his body like a shield, but Colby had had to close his eyes a time or two to focus on keeping his body from melting into the embrace, from reacting to the nearness of Ian’s body, from showing those in front of him that Colby didn’t have a lot of problem being used as the man’s hostage.

Even now, months later, Colby could still remember that deadly embrace, smell Ian’s scent, feel the man’s hard body along his backside and he could never help the shiver that went through him.

He’d had to walk and talk a _very_ fine line during that tense and intense situation when all he’d wanted was to be back in that man’s personal space in the most devastating way.

Since then, Colby had known that he would never be able to get the man out of his head, whether he wanted to or not.  And he’d tried!  He’d tried in the worst ways but thoughts and images of Ian… of that incredibly, legendary, formidable, dangerous man… refused to be dislodged.

This incident though, the thought, _the mere suggestion_ of a thought, that he had killed Ian Edgerton and the way his brain kept circling around that thought, keeping him from sleeping, eating, healing… it had proved to him that he couldn’t live without Ian in his life, in what ever way possible.  But, it was a no-win situation because Colby also knew that he couldn’t have the man in his life the way he wanted… needed… him to be.

And that realization was tearing him apart.

Also, Ian seemed to be going well out of his way to help him, Colby, get back to his former condition, which was all well and good, and even admirable, but it didn’t help Colby that the man who was causing this tailspin of realization, and more misery than he’d ever experienced in his life, refused to leave him alone!

* * *

After a week of being stuck with Ian in the two room cabin – granted, it was a wonderful setting and reminded Colby of being back home in Idaho with the wilderness and no sign of civilization for miles, getting to look (but not too closely or too long) at the formidable black haired man for hours, days on end (carefully) – Colby was this close to either having a no-holds-barred fight with the man (to prove to him that he really was fine… mostly… I can go home now and so can you) or signing his death certificate by pouncing on him and fucking him through the mattress (hell, at least, _if_ he got that far, he’d die happy).

When Colby caught himself watching droplets of water slowly making their way from Ian’s shower damp hair down his back, following the contours of muscle as the man stood at the sink in the kitchen, and reached down to adjust himself in his sweatpants as he made to walk over to touch, he jerked himself to a stop with a muttered curse.

Ian must have heard something because he started to turn towards Colby and Colby whirled in place.

Or tried to anyhow, having forgotten about his crutches.  And his broken leg.

By the time he remembered both, his feet, crutches _and_ arms were all tangled up and he was heading to the floor, unable to even think of breaking his fall with anything less than his already broken head.

Colby didn’t really hear whatever Ian was saying as the sniper grabbed him, turning them so that he landed heavily on the floor and Colby landed on top of him.  After a shocked few seconds, Colby was simultaneously trying to get his body to stop reacting to Ian’s nearness as well as get away from him so the man didn’t see or feel Colby’s body ignoring him.

Ian’s voice finally broke through to him.

“Colby!  Stop struggling, you’re going to hurt yourself!  Give me a second and I’ll help you up.”

The blond struggled for a moment longer but realizing that the situation was hopeless and just sagged back to the floor, and against Ian’s body, in defeat.  He felt like a fucking turtle on its back, unable to get up without help and he was beyond exhausted, mentally and physically, with the fight of keeping himself in check.

At least, if Ian decided to kill him, he was already on the floor.

* * *

While they’d been here for a week by this time, Colby’s broken leg, not to mentioned his weaken physical condition, prevented him from doing much other than hobble slowly and cautiously around, not exploring much beyond a few hundred yards around the cabin.  However, when Ian turned, thinking he’d heard the man curse, Colby looked like he’d been about to bolt into a dead run.

Watching as the blond tried to catch himself, his limbs tangled with the crutches, Ian’s heart spiked with fear.  Lunging across the kitchen, the sniper was able to grab him as he started to fall, his head getting dangerously close to the floor, putting himself under the blond, using his own body to cushion Colby’s descent.  His breath knocked out of him and his heart pounding in his ears, it took Ian a moment to process the other’s almost frantic struggling to get up but only succeeding in wasting his energy and inadvertently jarring Ian’s body, making it difficult to get his breath back.

He tried the blonde’s name a couple of times but Colby was obviously too involved with trying to get himself up and finally resorted to shouting to get the other man’s attention.

“Colby!  Stop struggling, you’re going to hurt yourself!  Give me a second and I’ll help you up.”

The formidable blond struggled for a moment longer before giving up, his body seeming to lose all its life at once and that worried Ian considerably.  Had Colby reinjured himself somehow or just exhausted what reserves he had?  Moving out from under the other man as quickly and gently as possible, Ian’s first glance went to the man’s head.  Finding no blood, he found Colby’s face and saw his eyes closed – almost wincing and lashes slightly damp.  Hurriedly running his eyes over the rest of Colby’s body, looking for whatever was causing him discomfort, he found something completely unexpected.

Ian blinked, stilling momentarily.  The front of Colby’s sweatpants, which had been cut to accommodate his casted leg, was tented slightly with arousal.

Swallowing, he looked back to Colby’s face, which had flushed but his eyes were still closed.  Taking a breath, Ian swallowed again before trying to get his dry mouth to say something.

“Uh….”  _Eloquent, very eloquent, Ian_ , he berated himself.

“Just do it.”  Colby had turned his head away from Ian, eyes still closed, his breath still a little heavy, probably not only from exertion now but embarrassment or shame now.

Ian practically choked on breath and spittle.  “Do what… exactly?”

Colby swallowed and took a breath before turning to face the man hovering above him, eyes opened and his face a mask of misery and defeat.

“Beat the shit out of me so we can get this over with already.”  His voice was a mirror to match his face.

Ian frowned slightly; he needed a bit more information before he jumped to, perhaps, an entirely erroneous conclusion.  “Beat you for getting aroused during a pretty intimate struggle?  Hell, Colby, you wrestled in high school, you know it happens.”

Colby sighed, his eyes closing momentarily, before he looked straight at Ian.  He tensed even more if that was possible and the resignation Ian saw tore at his gut. “I’m attracted to you, Ian; it wasn’t just the struggle.”

Ian blinked once again, his face blank for a moment before, unable to help it, he smiled down at the blond.  Then he laughed, his own stress vanishing.

It was the other’s turn to frown and swallow but before he could do anything more, Ian brought his face down to Colby’s, stopping just inches from the blonde’s own.  Colby jerked slightly, swallowing, his eyes growing wider and Ian’s expression softened.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”  When Colby remained stiff and wary, Ian relented, backing off just a bit, bringing one hand up to the other man’s face and gently tracing the contour of his cheek and jawbone.

Ian could see the shock on Colby’s face turn, very slowly, into guarded hope.

They probably, obviously, needed to talk but Ian couldn’t be bothered with any of that right this moment, he’d been waiting years for this opportunity.   Gently and slowly Ian brought his lips to Colby’s in a brief touch, staying there, hovering… waiting.

There was maybe a second, not enough time for Ian’s mind to start berating him, before both of Colby’s hands grabbed onto his head and pulled him closer, pulled him harder against himself, throwing Ian off balance.  Ian instinctively flung his arms out to brace himself over Colby’s body but his mind ground to a halt as the blond began to devour him, hungrily.

As the kiss progressed, Ian couldn’t help but be thankful he’d brought Colby up to the cabin.  The noises Colby was making, not to mention the ones he was dragging out of Ian, wouldn’t have to be restrained and he couldn’t wait to hear the man scream while Ian fucked him into the mattress.

He must have said some of that aloud because Colby’s body jerked against his with a moan that made Ian’s breath hitch and Ian couldn’t help grinding down on him, finding Colby’s sweats-clad erection against his naked stomach, material feeling like it was already wet.

Ian forced himself to back off for a moment, pulling against trembling hands that were trying hard to keep him where he was.

“Don’t stop.” Colby’s voice was whiskey jagged, filled with longing and so much else that Ian didn’t have the brain cells to decipher at the moment.  It shivered along Ian’s spine, making him gasp.

“I’m not planning on going anywhere, Col.  Just gotta catch my breath.”  They were both panting.

“You can talk, you’ve caught it.”  And before Ian could reply, Colby pulled him back down, wrapping his whole leg around him this time, pushing fingers through Ian’s far too-short dark hair, back to kissing him like his life depended on it.

_Maybe it does; maybe this is what’s been going on._ The thought barely registered as it flashed through his mind.

While Ian didn’t want to hurt Colby, it looked like Colby wasn’t going to give him a choice in the matter, so Ian settled himself slowly and gently all along the body beneath him, both groaning as their groins pressed together.

“God… Jesus, Colby… thank God you landed on the rug.” Was pulled from the sniper as Colby rubbed against him.

Ian’s hands were moving under Colby’s shirt, caressing all he could find, registering the barely there feel of the man’s ribs – _how much weight had Colby lost in the last three weeks?_ – tugging the shirt up, he found a nipple and began to nuzzle before sucking and licking.  Colby squirmed under him, bucking up into his hips and the sniper wrestled the shirt off him, hands and tongue busy mapping the fair skin.

“Fuck, Ian…. Wanted you for so long….  So God-damned _long_ ….” Colby’s voice was shattered, actually cracking on the last word as he struggled to talk between hungry kisses and Ian’s heart lurched.

Moments later, Colby’s hands were at Ian’s ass, kneading him through his jeans, pulling him down against him.  Ian’s bottom half jerked against him, as his back arched away from the other man, hissing with pleasure/pain as his trapped erection rubbed against his zipper and the hard length of Colby’s own hard-on.

Colby followed his torso up, turning the tables on the sniper, nuzzling and then sucking and biting his nipples, still pulling Ian down and grinding against him.

“Co… Col… Stop… I wanna feel all of you.  Stop.” Everything was going too fast, they were both burning up, exploding, with long denied passion, desire and needs; Colby was obviously exhausted; it was going to be messy and fast despite Ian wanting to slow it down.

Hearing Ian whine went right through him and Colby couldn’t do anything but jerk and grind, a keening sound the only thing he could manage.

Ian felt Colby grinding and jerking against him, understanding that Colby was far too close to do what Ian wanted and felt him slipping closer and closer to the point of no return.  Ian gave up the fight, he’d been holding on with teeth and toenails as it was, and rutted against the blonde, fiercely holding the man’s head to his chest, hand wrapped in hair that felt like silk, wincing when the man’s teeth bit the nipple he was teasing, his erection jerking with the spike of pleasure/pain.

Air hit the nipple as Colby’s mouth opened in an almost silent gasp and Ian watched the blonde’s eyes squeeze shut, his face transforming into that agony/ecstasy look as orgasm took over and felt Colby’s rhythmic jerk and release as warmth spread around their trapped erections.

_Oh yeah, yeah, yes, just like that Colby, yeah, come for me my soldier boy, yeah, you are so beautiful even as exhausted as you are, come on, come on, I can’t wait to ride you, yeah, yes—_

Ian’s inner monologue was cut off as he felt his own climax explode at the base of his pine, shooting up and out along his nerves.

“Fuck!” The word was drawn out of a clamped-shut throat as Ian jerked in turn, grinding himself against Colby, his muscles clenching and releasing and clenching as he came so hard his vision whited out and his breath stopped in his chest, his heart beating like hummingbird’s wings.

And then he was plummeting back to Earth, having just enough sense to fall to the side of Colby, who lay senseless, panting and gasping for breathe.

When he’d gotten his breath back, he turned his head to find Colby’s turned towards him, his face relaxed for the first time since… well, before the flashback at least… eyes closed, breath even.  Apparently Colby had found some peace and his exhausted body had taken the opportunity to give him the much needed rest he’d been avoiding for the last couple of weeks.  Ian hoped that, after the man woke, they could… well, they _did_ still need to talk, but Ian couldn’t get the image of Colby, wrapped around his cock, driving into him, making Colby scream, out of his head.

He smirked and chuckled, grabbing a blanket from the couch with a foot and wrapping it around them, eyes darkening as Colby sighed heavily and leaned closer.

Ian had a feeling that Colby was going to be fine.  Just fine, indeed.

~~N3S ~~

**Author's Note:**

> For some reason, I can't get my links to stay linked so....
> 
> While I used ‘Quarterhorse’ for Colby – taken without permission from Emmademarais’ fantastic piece called Bravo, (http://emmademarais.livejournal.com/279550.html -- I didn’t want to bother her with such a small detail that’s only used once or twice and I hope she’s ok with that!) – I had to give Lt. Murphy something, so…. According to Wikipedia, the estate for Mr. Babbitt was in Cincinnati, Ohio. Thus, I gave Lt. Murphy the name of ‘Rainman’ or ‘Rain Man’ which was the nickname Charlie Babbitt gave his older brother, whom he forgot about as he grew older, Raymond Babbitt. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rain_Man#Plot
> 
> OCDETF [Organized Crime Drug Enforcement Task Force] – The OCDETF Program was established in 1982 to conduct comprehensive, multi-level attacks on major drug trafficking and money laundering organizations. Today, OCDETF combines the resources and expertise of its member federal agencies which include: the Drug Enforcement Administration [DEA], the Federal Bureau of Investigation, the Bureau of Immigration and Customs Enforcement, the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives [ATF], the U.S. Marshals Service, the Internal Revenue Service, and the U.S. Coast Guard – in cooperation with the Department of Justice Criminal Division, the Tax Division, and the 93 U.S. Attorney’s Offices, as well as with state and local law enforcement. The principal mission of the OCDETF program is to identify, disrupt, and dismantle the most serious drug trafficking and money laundering organizations and those primarily responsible for the nation’s drug supply. http://www.justice.gov/dea/programs/ocdetf.htm 
> 
> SOG of the US Marshals – The Special Operations Group is a specially trained tactical unit deployed in high-risk/sensitive law enforcement situations, national emergencies, civil disorders and natural disasters. SOG members can perform specialties involving high-risk entry, explosive breaching, sniper/observer, rural operations, evasive driving, less lethal munitions, waterborne operations and tactical medical support. http://www.usmarshals.gov/duties/factsheets/general-2011.html under ‘Tactical Operations’.
> 
> What is the ATF? – A unique law enforcement agency in the United States Department of Justice that protects our communities from violent criminals, criminal organizations, the illegal use and trafficking of firearms, the illegal use and storage of explosives, acts of arson and bombings, acts of terrorism, and the illegal diversion of alcohol and tobacco products. We partner with communities, industries, law enforcement, and public safety agencies to safeguard the public we serve through information sharing, training, research, and use of technology.
> 
> N3NY Part One - http://numb3rs-newyear.livejournal.com/32594.html   
> N3NY Part Two - http://numb3rs-newyear.livejournal.com/32852.html 
> 
> ~~N3S ~~


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